


(see you) in a new light

by wyvernknighted



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Racism, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Blue Lions Route, Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, soup as a love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:13:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27507409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wyvernknighted/pseuds/wyvernknighted
Summary: When Dedue hosts his old friend Marianne for a small reunion dinner, he revisits some past memories from his years at Garreg Mach. As he reminisces with Marianne years after the war, his longtime crush on her becomes difficult to conceal.written for day 2 of the Dedue Rarepair Weekend for the prompts home and warm.
Relationships: Marianne von Edmund/Dedue Molinaro
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	(see you) in a new light

**Author's Note:**

> content warning: implied racism
> 
> I changed the canon for Dedue's solo ending for this because I felt like it worked better for the story (and I love the idea of Dedue living in the restored lands of Duscur). Tagged as canon divergence for that reason.

Dedue wrung his hands together, glancing through the window. He was reading over the letter for the twentieth time, certain that he missed something. But it still read the same, that she would arrive at sundown. The sun sat inches above the horizon and he was ready too soon. He was impeccably dressed, wearing a thick overcoat with a maroon scarf. Outside, light flecks of snow drifted. It was still early in the season for snow for most places – they were only midway through Red Wolf Moon. Yet, this far north, the temperature remained at a steady chill. He only hoped the snow would stay light so as not to harshen the roads for his visitor.

It had been five years since the war ended and King Dimitri heralded Fodlan’s new dawn. After the end of the war, the King made good on his promise to reallocate lands to the people of Duscur. He appointed Dedue to head the process of resettlement. This is the land he grew up on, and the land he now lived in amongst his people. He still spoke with the King often, usually by letter. But he had fallen out of contact with many of his other friends from Garreg Mach. It was not that he did not miss them. He just found himself wrapped up in the many considerations of his life in Duscur, of managing and mediating and living. It was a busy life, one that both satisfied him and left his hours largely accounted for. His old hobbies of the past, such as gardening and needlework, have fallen to fringes of his free time. But he’s not one to complain, and he’s taken to this way of living well. He was always the sort to stay busy in service of a cause.

But when he received a letter from his old classmate, Marianne, he realized how deeply he had longed to see his friends again. It had been several years since he last saw Ashe, and most of the other Blue Lions he had not seen since the days following the end of the war. Of course, his anxiety was only enhanced by the memory of quiet moments with Marianne. When they both happened to be on cooking duty and she would chop meat and vegetables. He handled most of the cooking and spicing, while she helped with plating the dish and sending it out for their classmates. He recalled, she always had a fondness for the onion gratin soup they made together. This was the dish he had prepared tonight, thinking that the warm soup should comfort her after the long journey from southeastern Fodlan. He recalled that he had not stirred it in a while and hopped up, thankful for a reason to burn off some of his nervous energy.

As he guided the ladle through the viscous fluid, careful not to disturb the layer of cheese on top, he heard a knock from his door. He froze, taking a moment to steady himself. Then, he carefully set the ladle on the handle of his pot and strode to answer the door. In the soft light of his lantern, he saw her illuminated in shades of pale yellow. Marianne stood, slightly tense on his doorstep with her hands clasped together. She wore her hair pinned up in an elaborate braid, as she often did during the war. Upon first glance, her face had not aged one bit. As he continued to observe, however, he noticed the faint lines of age around her eyes. They soon deepened as she smiled to greet him.

“Good evening, Dedue.” Her lips formed a delicate smile. He recalled the first time he had seen her smile, years after first meeting her. It had been after the birth of a foal amongst the stables. In those days of war, the small reminder that life could persist had brought a small smile to her face. He had taken note of that day in his memory, locked it away in his heart as one of those fleeting moments of happiness. Some things make life worth the trouble, and smiles as sweet as Marianne’s certainly made that list.

He waited just a moment too long to reply he realized, too enamored by the sight of her. His words came one after another as he struggled to seem relaxed. “Good evening, Marianne. It’s wonderful to see you. Please, come in.”

“Thank you for hosting me.” She stepped in lightly, tapping the snowflakes from her boots on the thick leather mat in his doorway. “I’m sorry, I was a few minutes past sunset. The road was busier than I had anticipated.”

“It’s no trouble at all. I’m glad you arrived safely.” He paused in the doorway, unsure of what to say next. His chest felt tight, filled to the brim with things he had long wished to say to her. He found himself regretting that he had not kept in contact with her after the end of the war. As he stumbled to ask her something neutral, she began to take off her cloak.

“Let me.” He stepped forward, lightly pulling it from her shoulders. Marianne had not expected the help apparently, because she was slow to retract her hands. His fingers brushed hers lightly as he drew the cloak from her grasp. Though the touch was nothing more than a light impression, it filled his chest with warmth. He had missed her far more than he realized. In the moment, however, he carried out his action, turning to hang the coat.

“How was the ride over?” Dedue asked.

“It was a long trip, but pleasant. The snow only fell in the last hour, so it was not too difficult to navigate.” She stepped towards him, her hand holding his. “It’s been too long since we last spoke.”

“Yes,” He dipped his head, his lips curving into a smile. He could not resist, having felt such joy in seeing her again. It almost did not seem real. The last time he had seen her, they were fresh from war. Now Marianne seemed happier, brighter, healthier in all regards. Even her lightest smile glowed with a peace he had not known in her visage prior. She had settled into Fodlan’s new era gracefully to say the least.

They both paused for a long moment, sharing a gaze filled with nostalgia. It was not until the silence stretched thin that Dedue realized himself, realized that he was still holding her hand and looking at her like some lovesick boy. He pulled away abruptly, turning towards the kitchen. “I think that the soup may be, um, burning!” He hurried to the stove.

Marianne chuckled as she followed a few paces behind him. “I doubt you would be capable of such a thing. Your cooking is always top notch.”

He almost responded, but bit his tongue. Instead, he busied himself with the careful motion of stirring. He felt her grow closer until he could see her in his peripheral vision, just behind his shoulder.

“Oh, onion gratin soup!” She said. “That’s one of my favorite meals to have in winter.”

“I know.” Dedue spoke before he realized what his words implied. As soon as he realized what he had said, he panicked. “I mean, I um, remember that we used to share it. After cooking duty.”

“I do, too.” Marianne’s voice was quiet, thoughtful almost. He glanced at her. She looked wistful, as if she had stepped into another time completely. “In my academy days, it was moments like those where I found some comfort.”

Something caught in Dedue’s chest at that admission. Her voice was soft as she admitted it, like she was unfurling the petals of a rose one by one. He considered turning to face her, following the urge he felt to pull her close. He stamped out that desire, instead rooting himself to the spot. Another moment passed and he realized he should probably answer her at least.

“I’m glad.” He kept his eyes trained on the dish before him. “I too found comfort in those times.”

He felt warmth press into his shoulder. She had stepped toward him, placing her hand on his shoulder lightly. He wanted to lean into her, to let go of the fear he felt and accept her touch. But he stiffened instead, unable to ignore the tension in his chest. Before the moment could break towards some sort of resolution, he pulled away, striding to the set table.

“It’s ready,” Dedue said as he returned with their bowls. Marianne nodded, thanking him as he passed over her bowl. The energy from before, of potentials and unspoken tenderness, dissipated. In its place was the gentle atmosphere they normally entertained. It warmed the room like a well-stoked fire, this comforting aura between old friends.

As they sat beside one another and began to eat, conversation filled the space between them. Marianne told Dedue about her life in eastern Fodlan as the head of House Edmund. While the role had previously intimidated her, she found her bearings soon enough. Now, she admitted, she could manage public speaking and political engagement without much issue. However, it was the time she spent helping those who lived in her territory which she enjoyed the most. Dedue was proud of her. He could tell she had grown much in the time they had spent apart. She was composed and refined, yes. But she was also still the same gentle soul he had grown fond of those years ago.

After Marianne had imparted her anecdotes, she asked Dedue about his days. He obliged her, going on about his busy schedule. He was quick to tell her of his many memories from over the years. As they chuckled over a story, he felt the warmth of her touch again. Her hand brushed over his own, leaving in its wake a bloom of sensation. His laugh stumbled for a moment before he coughed behind his hand.

“Is something wrong?” She asked.

He shook his head. “No, I’m alright.” He pushed aside his empty bowl, hands settling on the edge of the table. “It’s just good to see you again.”

Marianne nodded. “I have missed you.”

Dedue met her gaze. “I feel the same.” Perhaps it was the flicker of candlelight reflected in her deep brown eyes or the curve of her lip as that lovely smile reappeared. But he felt like he saw something surface in her expression, something that had long laid dormant in his own heart. It was the warmth he had felt in her presence all those years ago. In the empty, cold halls of Garreg Mach, he had nurtured small flames of comfort. A candle he held for Dimitri, for Byleth, for each of his friends. But the one he had held most tenderly had been the light she had given him, the gentle brilliance shining through her smile. To see it now, years later, reminded him of just how much he had grown to miss her. He did not suppress his reaction to lean towards her, his fingers brushing a stray piece of hair from her face. And very suddenly, the atmosphere of the room shifted, as her eyes widening as a flush rose to her face. His breath hung in his chest, his fingers still just above her ear. He could caress her cheek, should he choose to be daring.

But he decided against it, retracting his hand with a sheepish laugh. “There was a stray hair,” He explained, eyes darting down.

“Ah,” Marianne’s shoulders rose, her hands curled in her lap. “I see.”

Things were tense for a moment after that. He had not realized how his actions could cause her discomfort. But now that he noticed the stiffness in her posture, he could not help but feel a little guilty. He only wasted a moment to internally chastise himself, though, for the flow of conversation continued and things relaxed again once more. Soon enough, the moonlight brightened the room, which had before only had the aid of flickering candles. With the brightness came a realization that perhaps the hour was late. It was Dedue who suggested they turn in.

“Ah, yes.” Marianne began to stand, smoothing out her dress. “May I help clean up things?”

“It’s alright.” Dedue had already stacked their dishes together neatly. He pulled them into his arms, balancing the empty glasses in his offhand. “You are my guest.”

“And you are my friend. Friends help one another, do they not?” Marianne was smiling like she had made a joke. Dedue realized she was teasing him, however lightly.

“I suppose I cannot argue with that.” Dedue chuckled as she followed behind him. “How about I clean the dishes and you dry them?”

With Marianne’s nod, they reached agreement. As they stood side by side, Dedue passing along scrubbed dishes for Marianne to wipe dry, he could not help but remember the times they had shared kitchen duty. He felt like he had stepped into the past, that he was standing in back rooms of the dining hall while Marianne stood beside him. Even back then, she had insisted on helping where she could. Even when she struggled, she still wanted to try to lighten his burden. It was no secret that when a student learned they worked with Dedue on kitchen duty, they could leave the brunt of the work to him. He was skilled in domestic work and his cooking had gained a decent reputation. Everyone knew he was hardworking, to the point where he would always see a task completed. Because of this, his partner for kitchen duty was liable to skip altogether. They knew he wouldn’t seek out the professor and raise complaint. It was an easy pass.

It was not a problem when he was lucky enough to end up with one of his classmates. When Marianne learned of this treatment, she frowned, her eyebrows dipping in what he realized was anger. He had never seen her rageful before this moment. Yet, indignance was clear on her face. She redoubled her efforts that day in the kitchen, insisting on helping however she could. By the end of the day, there were a few broken dishes and one spilled tray of food. But, Dedue had actually learned what it felt like to have a partner who cared enough to help. He smiled, glancing furtively at Marianne. He didn’t expect to meet her gaze, and almost flinched in surprise at the look she was giving him. She was chuckling behind her hand.

“What?” Dedue stilled his scrubbing. “Is there something wrong?”

Marianne shook her head, still laughing breezily. The candlelight reflected in her eyes, casting their deep brown in a warm shade. “You were humming to yourself just now. It was cute.”

“Ah.” Dedue felt his face grow warm. He had heard himself described with many different words – powerful, strong, silent, dependable. Cute was not on that list. Hearing it from Marianne now, her eyes dancing with mirth and her laugh a soft reminder against his heart, caught him completely off guard. He struggled to respond, lest his embarrassment deepen. “I suppose I was happy.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of. I enjoyed it.” Marianne finally stopped chuckling and he felt himself relax. “You used to do it all the time back when we cooked together.”

“I picked it up from my grandmother I think.” Dedue turned back to the dishes. He tried to hold on to the pleasant side of that memory, and not the underlying pain which often accompanied it. “She always complained that chores were too quiet. She liked to liven them up by singing to herself.”

“I think it’s lovely.” Marianne said. “When you sing, that is. You have a sweet voice.”

Dedue shook his head with a laugh. “No, I can’t hold a tune. But humming is easy enough.”

“I suppose we’ll just have to agree to disagree.” Marianne said mildly as Dedue handed her the next dish to dry.

“I see all of that diplomatic work with the eastern nobility is rubbing off on you.” It was Dedue’s turn to tease her and she wrinkled her nose with a snicker.

“Perhaps.” Her eyes twinkled and Dedue felt his chest ache. He turned away, focusing on the next dish to wash.

They finished chores soon after that. As the last dish was wiped dry, Dedue found himself lingering awkwardly. He realized all that was left was to show Marianne to the guest bedroom. The thought brought a rush of bitterness in his gut, as he conceptualized just how little time they had left to share. He had known she was only staying the night from the onset. But now that he had seen her again, he knew the incoming separation would sadden him. He shook those thoughts from his mind, returning to the moment.

“It is late.” He said as Marianne turned to face him. “Come, I can show you to your quarters.”

“Oh, right.” Perhaps it was a trick of the light but something wavered in her expression. Whatever uncertainty there was, however, passed in a moment. She stepped to follow him.

As they crossed the threshold once more, however, Marianne paused. Dedue only realized it a moment later. When he noticed her absence at his side, he stopped and turned to her. The space between them glowed from the light of the full moon, broken only by her silhouette. She was standing before the window, gazing out with a peculiar look on her face. Even lit in full clarity by the moon, he could not read her expression.

“It’s a lovely night tonight.” She said.

“It is.” Dedue returned to her side, sensing that there was a reason for her lingering.

“Do you remember the night of the Ball? Back at the Academy.”

“I do.” He was cautious, uncertain as to why such an event mattered. It had been boring for him, all things considered. He merely stood watch as Dimitri entertained dance partners. He had exchanged words with Ashe and Mercedes in between sets, but other than that he had spent the night largely alone. He hadn’t realized that Marianne had seen him there.

“I wish I had danced with you back then.” She was still looking out of the window. The snow reflected the moon’s glow, casting everything in a bright, unflinching light. Dedue realized she was not joking.

“It would not have been appropriate.” Though years had passed since he had to care about the conventions of Fodlan nobility to any excessive degree, the phrase rose to his lips like a reflex.

The corner of her mouth turned down and he realized she was irritated. “It shouldn’t have been. You’re allowed to have fun.”

“Balls are not for fun. They are for members of the nobility to occupy with their concerns.” Dedue looked out of the window, remembering his thoughts from that time easily. “Even back then, I knew to remain unbothered by such things.”

“But still…” Marianne angled her face towards him. “There were many things back then that were not fair.”

“Yes.” Dedue smiled and he knew he could not hide the lingering sadness in it. Not from her, at least.

The next moment took him by surprise as she extended her hand. “Would you like to dance?”

He laughed. “There’s no music.”

Marianne shrugged. “Music is not always required.”

“Is this more of your diplomacy?”

“No,” She shook her head quickly. He sensed anxiety in her voice. “Just trying to do something I wish I had done a long time ago.”

Dedue considered it for a moment. She was certainly genuine. Based on the slight tremor in her voice, he knew she held no ill intent. And yet, something in him distrusted the moment just slightly. It was uncharacteristic to say the least. He felt out of his element as the night began to take a path he had not anticipated. Despite this, he took her hand.

“Very well then.”

Marianne startled slightly at his touch, as if she hadn’t expected affirmation. Dedue smiled at her reassuringly as he assumed the correct position by Fodlan standards. She nodded back at him in confirmation. At that, he began their dance slowly, leading them along steps that he had learned years ago. He always found Fodlan dances to be rigid compared to the dances of Duscur.

And at first, they both were fairly stiff in posture. He was careful to only touch Marianne lightly, as that was the polite thing to do. He would not take advantage of this moment. It was awful enough that he had been harboring these feelings from her for years. But now that she was vulnerable before him, he would only treat her with care befitting of a friend.

“Are you okay?” She broke his train of thought midstep.

“Yes,” he answered quickly, continuing the momentum of their turn.

“I’m not delicate, you know.” Marianne was smiling at him again. “If you think you have to treat me gently, you don’t.”

Ah, he was dancing a bit far apart from her. It made sense that she would be concerned. He nodded and pulled her closer. “My apologies.”

“There’s no need to apologize.” Now that they were closer, Marianne leaned forward, her forehead tapping against his shoulder. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.”

“Right.” He made an effort to relax, which only resulted in his shoulders lowering slightly. “Is this fun for you?”

“Yes.” Marianne glanced up at him and he suddenly realized how close they were. She was smiling brightly, easily, as if she had never struggled to smile before. That was the thing about Marianne. When she felt joy, it shined through her like light from a lantern. She lit up the room with just one smile, and Dedue was entranced by it. Instinctively, he pressed his hand against her back, his touch a steady presence. It was like breathing, he thought to himself. Loving her was as natural, as easy, as breathing.

They reached the end of the routine, the circles of their steps growing closer. And then Dedue paused, his breath held. He dared not release it should it disturb the delicate tension that stretched between them. Marianne looked up at him, her lips thinned in an anxious line. Then something in her expression broke, and she lifted a hand to his cheek. Her fingers traced the edge of his jaw and he leaned into her touch.

“May I kiss you?” She asked.

Dedue froze as several realizations hit him at once. He remembered the constant reminder of her touch over dinner, the lingering warmth of her gaze. The waver in her expression, and the peculiar look she had when he signaled the night’s end. He stared at her.

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Marianne nodded, her eyes trained on him intently. “Absolutely certain.”

He hesitated for a moment, doubting that this was real. He had long accepted that his feelings for Marianne were most likely unrequited. To fit this reality together in his mind left him stumbling. This was the last thing he had expected from this night. But still, he found the courage to nod.

She leaned up, her hand sliding behind his neck. When her lips met his, his mind went blank. Yes, he had kissed people before. But this was a kiss he had only entertained in daydreams. It had never occurred to him that it might escape the recesses of his mind, that his desire might actually become truth. He had certainly never allowed himself to believe that Marianne might be the one to kiss him, to choose him. He sighed with the realization. As he finally felt the softness of their kiss, he relaxed in her embrace.

It felt like time had frozen. The only thing that mattered in that moment was Marianne’s arms wrapped around him, the softness of her lips, the fluttering pulse of her heart against his chest. Time melted away as Dedue only thought of the present. They broke apart in the same moment, soon after Dedue realized that he should probably take a moment to catch his breath. He pressed his forehead against Marianne’s, glancing at her shyly. He was afraid to make direct eye contact, lest he sense disappointment or rejection in her gaze. But she was looking at him tenderly with that same bright smile.

At the sight, he felt the idle beginnings of confidence. His hand rose to cup her cheek, fingers resting at the curve of her jaw. He held her gaze this time. “Marianne…”

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite some time.” Though her words were bold, her eyes flickered away from his. He rushed to fill the silence, to reassure her.

“As have I.” He felt her inhale softly and their eyes met once more.

“Were we…”

“Fools all this time?” Dedue chuckled. “It seems that way.”

Marianne laughed with him, leaning against his chest. “After all of this time…”

“Yes.” He played with a strand of her hair, tucking it back into her braid softly. “But, perhaps we could start now?”

Marianne looked up at him, her answer clear as the moonlight they were doused in. “I would like that very much.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
